Stepping into New Shoes
by Jam Hands
Summary: Roger decides to do for Mimi what Mark did for him. Not sure if it's a oneshot or if I'm going to continue.Rating for language and drug content.


Roger walked down Avenue A that night with a heavy weight on his shoulders. The sun had set; it was dark, and he partially longed to be back on the rooftop with his guitar alone. Maybe feeling numb was all he could feel. Maybe it was all he was capable of. Maybe because of that things would never work out with Mimi and in putting so much effort to do it, he was only wrestling with inevitability.

He was plagued by his own actions. He saw her, buying drugs in that back alleyway again. The back alleyway he knew like the palm of his hand. Obtaining drugs from the same man who he let poison his veins. Who he let poison _her _veins. The other her that is. The only other girl who was as beautiful as Mimi. And here it was…happening again. Mimi was falling into a downward spiral, one that he knew all too well.

That night, angered and hurt, he rejected her cold and withering body, leaving her alone to go shoot up, for all he cared. Except he knew that even in thinking that he was only fooling himself. He _did_ care. Maybe that was the hardest part of all of it. He cared again for another April. Caring for girls whose affinities for smack rivaled their own affection for him appeared to be an affinity of his own. He should have known better than to get involved with Mimi. Yet there was something there, some luminescent quality that shone in her eyes that night when she asked for a candle that transcended all of her vices. And she at least made an effort. She hadn't used in a week before succumbing to her own addiction.

Roger understood why. She was losing Angel. Her best friend in the entire world. The first person who welcomed her after her parents kicked her out. The same solace that Roger had felt in finding April that night Mimi had found with Angel. And he too, after losing his own catharsis in the form of a young girl with a vivacious smile, had only accelerated his own use. If it hadn't been for Mark, Roger couldn't even begin to guess where he would be today.

"_Roger…we need to talk."_

"_In a minute Mark, I'm going out. I'll be back later."_

"_Roger…"_

"_Oh fuck Mark…don't give me that. You don't understand what it's like to lose your whole existence."_

"_Roger you're not the first person to get a disease. If you just take your AZT like your doctors are asking…everything will be okay. And April wouldn't want you to live this way. You know that."_

"_Mark you don't know what the fuck you're talking about."_

"_Roger, it's gotten out of hand. I can't even remember the last night you didn't walk home at two in the morning, totally fucked up on God only knows what. I don't know what to do."_

Roger remembered that night. How he just walked out the door. How he went and bought more. And passed out on the bathroom floor, right by the bathtub. He knew in his mind that Mark was right, but he didn't feel that his life was worth living.

"_Roger, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone."_

"_Right," Roger snickered sarcastically._

"_I'm serious." Mark didn't tell him how Maureen had been telling him to just kick him out from the start; not because she didn't care about Roger but because Mark was making someone else's problems his problem. He was hiding behind Roger's problems as a justification for him not having a career just like he hid behind his camera. "Look, I don't know what to do. But this is my apartment. Either you make an effort to quit or you're gonna have to leave. I'm sorry Roger. But I just can't take it anymore." _

_Roger just walked outside, leaving no mystery of his whereabouts and causing Mark to sigh heavily._

_Mark stayed up that whole night on the couch, reflecting his friendship with Roger, wondering what it would take. His thoughts were interrupted by the thumping footsteps of his junkie friend and the slam of the opening door. Suddenly he decided to take a strident stand._

"_Please have all of your shit packed by tomorrow."_

"_It's not necessary."_

"_Yes it is. I'm serious this time. No more days of being a pushover." Roger snickered at his last sentence. Mark did too, internally. He knew that he would always be there for Maureen after every fight, but no, he had to at least appear to be strong if only for this moment_

"_No – I mean, here," he said, pulling out a tiny packet of heroin. "Please, take it away. I bought it…while I was out. I was going to…you know…but I thought about what you said…and…"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_You know, we could borrow money from Benny, my mom – I won't tell them what for. We could do it the right way, in a nice re-"_

"_-the right way is here, with you."_

What pained Roger more than just knowing how Mark stood by his side for six months was his own wonder if he could have been there for Mark. What if Mark had been the one who was the addict? Would Roger have cared for him through withdrawal for every hour of every day until he was in recovery? He shuddered at his own selfishness. At all of the times where he would beat Mark just to get a fix. But Mark would only stand there, silently and patiently. He knew that in the past he wouldn't have reciprocated the actions, but now, maybe now was his time to care for someone else.

He turned around to head home. On his way upstairs, he was caught by a light on in Mimi's house. He knocked on the door. No answer. Roger gently opened the door, which was unlocked.

"Mimi!" he called. "Mimi? Are you there?" There was no response. But the sniffling noises coming from the bathroom were enough of an answer. He opened the door to see her sitting against the bathtub, tears running down her practically blue arms, needle and powder at her side.

"Roger…I didn't…take it…but…"

"Shh…I was an asshole. I know what it's like…"

"No."

"Yes I do."

"I really want to stop…for everyone…for you…for Angel…"

"I know…"

"But I just can't do it on my own."

"I'm always going to be there for you."

"Let's flush it down the toilet."

"What?" he asked?

"Let's get rid of it. I'm going to try. I'm going to try even harder than before." As hard as she tried to sound strong with every ounce of her emphatic voice, her weak body was shaking. So Roger simply wrapped a blanket around her and carried her to bed where he told her that it would be okay, that it would all be worth it in the end, that it wasn't truly living if it meant living this way, just as Mark had told him seven months before. Maybe there was not ever going to be one set way he could repay Mark for all that he did for him; but one way to be sure all of Mark's efforts weren't in vain was to care for Mimi.


End file.
